


The Broken Ghost

by Ovipositivity



Category: StarCraft (Video Games)
Genre: Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Other, Oviposition, Science Fiction, Stomach Expansion, Tentacle Rape, Tentacle Sex, Xenophilia, Zerg Sex, all the way through
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23304856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ovipositivity/pseuds/Ovipositivity
Summary: This is another old, old story (I think this is at least three years old, if not older). Nova the Ghost tries to infiltrate zerg-infested Aiur, oviposition ensues.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 42





	The Broken Ghost

Sixteen days.

Nova Terra’s mission to Aiur was supposed to take seventy-two hours, tops. The extraction vessel hiding in Saalok’s shadow would be long gone by now-- she hoped. The alternative was worse. She had been here for sixteen days. Her suit was excellent at preserving moisture, and she had brought a Ghost’s standard three weeks of ration pills, but she had to admit she was starting to feel the pressure.

Nova had never been to Char during the bad old days of the First War, but she had seen the holovids. This was, if anything, worse. Here and there, glimpses of what Old Aiur must have been peeked through-- ruined stonework, overgrown gardens, shattered statuary. Most of its surface, however, was covered in pulsing Zerg growth. The “creep” mold that accompanied Zerg infestation was  _ everywhere _ . At first, Nova had tried to keep from touching it. She had always been a fastidious person, and even in a sealed environment suit, it was too disgusting to countenance. But it was impossible. The creep had started out thick and, as she progressed towards her mission site, it became omnipresent.

The mission. She had been trying not to think about it, but there it was again. Ghosts had been sent after other Ghosts before-- really, they were the natural choice when an agent went rogue and had to be taken down-- but none had ever gotten close to Sarah Kerrigan. Whatever the woman was now, she had been a Ghost once, and one of the best. She knew all of their tactics, all of their tricks, all of their standard procedures. At least, almost all, Nova hoped.

She had never met Kerrigan when she was human. Part of her regretted that. It burned her that her PI was only ever going to be  _ second- _ best at the Academy. She had read Kerrigan’s file-- the redhead had always been reckless, headstrong. Nova was nothing if not cool and collected. If it ever came down to it, woman to woman, guns and psyk against guns and psyk, she liked her chances. 

Too bad it was too late to test that hypothesis. Whatever Kerrigan was now was not a fair fight. Nova wasn’t going to call her out, Marshal-style-- she was going to put a specially crafted psi-inhibitor bullet right between the Queen of Blades’ eyes.

That was, at least, the theory.

Nova had been dropped as part of a diversionary attack by a combined Terran/Protoss force. It rankled her to work with the creepy faceless aliens, but she had to respect the power of their templar. Their brains crackled like main sequence stars, and in their presence, she felt herself retreating. It always amazed her that blunt humans like Jim Raynor could talk to the Protoss without discomfort. Didn’t he know what they could do to his mind? The virtues of ignorance, she supposed. The Protoss were, supposedly, projecting a psychic shroud that would keep Nova’s mind from being detected by the numerous psychic Zerg on the planet’s surface, not least her target. She wasn’t sure if she trusted that, but she had to admit that they definitely wanted her mission to succeed.

That was then, though. She wasn’t sure if they were even still trying. She had to assume they were. If they weren’t, she was dead-- it was only a matter of time. She had splattered a pair of Queens on her way towards the central hive cluster and her traps had taken out numerous zergling and roaches, but there were always more Zerg. Nova wasn’t going to be taken alive, though. In addition to her rifle, she had a sidearm, and she knew that point-blank her suit wouldn’t do a thing to stop a bullet.

Not a thing.

She picked her way carefully down a ridge of squirming purple flesh. At this point, the hellish landscapes were just another challenge. A river of multicolored ichor was just another river to cross. Her suit was masking her bio-signs, and her chameleonic camouflage was doing an excellent job keeping her out of the way of the Zerg. They hunted like sharks, she recalled, sensing electrical impulses. Or echolocating, or something. Whatever they were doing, the complex sonic baffles and heat compensators built into her Ghost suit were keeping her nice and invisible.

Up ahead the landscape fell away into a deep cavern. Concentrating, she blinked up a HUD map of the target region. This cave structure matched the one that, according to intelligence, served as the entrance to a large Zerg tunnel. These tunnels crisscrossed the planet and allowed Zerg to move without exposing them to orbital fire-- a necessity, ever since the joint operation to retake the planet had begun months ago. Kerrigan herself supposedly used them, though she wasn’t expected here. This was just to get Nova closer to the central cluster.

She wondered idly if she would be extracted after succeeding. The Zerg would surely be in disarray, and she could slip away. If she ran out of food before the Armada showed up, she was sure she could scavenge something. Parts of Aiur had to be uncorrupted. And if this was her last mission… well, so what? Her name would live on the Hall of Memory in the Academy forever. Not every Ghost could say that they fired the bullet that murdered a species.

It was while pursuing this happy line of thought that Nova Terra realized something had gone wrong. The corridor she was following dead-ended just fifty feet ahead of her. That wasn’t right at all. She distinctly remembered seeing it continue into darkness when she first dropped down here. Yes-- there, up ahead, a pulsing sphincter in the wall showed where it had closed off. She looked around behind her just in time to see a similar barrier squeeze itself shut.

Nova cursed. They had made her. The important thing now was not to panic. She had tools, she could cut through the wall and make it to the highlands, lose herself in the rocky scrubland…

The darkness hissed and resolved into a pair of glowing green eyes. Nova unlimbered her rifle. From the height and distance between the eyes, she estimated it was a swarm host. Bad news-- her rifle was made for taking out heavy targets, not swarms of broodlings. She racked a fresh magazine and took aim.

The zerg thumped forward on two heavy limbs, and Nova realized her miscalculation. It wasn’t a swarm host at all. It was a type of zerg she had never seen before-- two heavy limbs and a half-dozen smaller ones that skittered to keep up. Its bulbous abdomen was covered in a frond of tentacles, like a sea anemone, that shifted back and forth in a way that made her unaccountably queasy. It lurched toward her, and she rolled away, bringing her rifle up and firing a short burst. Her aim was, as ever, excellent, and the creature keened as ichor spouted from a triangle of impacts near its shoulder joint. It came on regardless, and Nova fired again while backpedaling. These shots spanged off the thing’s knee, which was covered in a bony carapace. She circled backward and took aim at one of its deeply-set, glowing eyes. Her shot was good, but the creature ducked at the last minute and the rounds deflected off its bony brow crest.

Nova tried to back up further, but found that she had reached the limit of the room. The creature was still advancing. She made a split-second decision and broke left. The zerg whirled as she barreled past it and came up in a roll that nearly cleared the reach of its tentacles.

Nearly.

Nova felt something muscular wrap itself around her right ankle a moment before she was pulled down. She sprawled heavily on the floor with an “Oof!” as her rifle bounced away from her. Looking down, she could see that one of the anemone-frond tentacles had extended by several meters. Her ankle was wrapped in a cord of bubblegum-pink flesh that contracted as she looked at it, pulling her closer to the beast. She reached for her sidearm at her waist, thinking a short burst might sever it, when another tentacle grabbed her wrist.    
  
They descended on her. Thick, slimy pseudopods wrapped around both wrists and both ankles, her waist, her neck. She could feel them flexing, probing, until the one around her neck found her helmet catch. The blank-faced helmet popped off and rolled away across the cave floor.

Instantly, the smell of the zerg infestation filled Nova’s nostrils. She gagged and almost vomited, but kept her gorge down. This was, she knew, very bad. She wished she had managed to grab her pistol, not so she could shoot her captor, but so she could avoid what was coming. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.

One of the tentacles wrapped around both arms, pinning them to her waist, and lifted her up. The rest withdrew. The creature hefted her as though she were weightless, bringing her up in front of its eyes and regarding her with a cold intellect that sent chills up Nova’s spine. Some of the zerg were no more than beasts, but not this one. 

Two of its smaller tentacles began to caress her waist. Was caress the right word? They were moving rhythmically… Nova looked down and gasped in horror. The tentacles had grown some kind of rough texture, like tiny hooks, and were shredding the tough polymer of her suit like it was cheesecloth. Underneath she wore a simple temperature-controlled bodyglove; this disappeared into scraps, too. She kicked her legs frantically, but a pair of pink tentacles gripped her ankles and pulled them apart. More of the tentacles scraped away her suit from the waist to her stomach, then mercifully stopped. The loosest tatters of her beloved Ghost camo, veteran of a thousand campaigns, hung around her chest and shoulders. Her zerg assailant seemed satisfied by this. It lowered her to the floor and pinned her here, head down, cheek scraping painfully into the stone floor of the cavern. Her legs remained wrenched open, and Nova lay there dreading what would come next.

She didn’t have long to wait. Something cold and slimy was sliding up her leg. It felt like a tentacle, but thinner and rounder than the others. Where it passed it left a trail of slime that made her skin tingle numbly. The probing appendage climbed her leg and slithered across one butt cheek, paused, then began to worm its way down in between her cheeks.

“No! NO!” Nova shouted and thrashed in the iron grip. It made no difference. She felt the tentacle’s wet tip pressing against her puckered anus. She tried to clench, but the muscles behind the invader were several times larger than hers. The pressure against her backdoor built and built until she felt it slide inside of her.

“AAAAGGGHHH!” Nova cried out in pain. She had never had anal sex-- hadn’t seen the point, really-- and the sudden invasion of her rectum by a tentacle the width of her wrist sent a bolt of agony up her spine. She felt herself being stretched out. The same numb tingling that had put her leg to sleep spread out from her O-ring, but it wasn’t enough to dull the pain. The tentacle pushed itself inside of her, inch by inch. She groaned as she felt her rectum distend around it. It seemed to be passing endlessly into her. She imagined it snaking up her colon, navigating the maze of her small intestine before reaching her stomach… 

The tentacle paused and she felt it discharge a torrent of cold goop inside her. She shuddered and retched at the alien sensation. Her bowels flooded with the zerg’s alien ejaculate, and she swore she could feel her belly expand a little. After filling her guts, the beast paused for a moment, then the tentacle began to flex. Each expansion stretched her abused sphincter further and made her stifle another yelp of pain. She wouldn’t give this monster the satisfaction of hearing her agony. She tried to look down to see what was happening to her, but couldn’t see past the tentacle. 

Soon enough, though, she felt something pressing against her pried-open asshole. Whatever it was was larger than the tentacle already in there. Grimy tears streamed down Nova’s cheeks as she felt whatever it was pressed against her abused anus. It was inside the tentacle, whatever it was. One last flexure, and it popped into her like a cork out of a bottle. Nova did scream then, loud and long. “AAAAAAAAUUUUUUUOOOOOWWWWWWWW!” The object felt like an orb, slightly oval and squishy… Nova’s heart nearly stopped as she realized what it was. An egg. The thing was laying eggs in her. This triggered a redoubled bout of flailing, the only effect of which was to make her badly bruised ass send spikes of pain out across her body.

Another egg started pressing at her backdoor, and Nova sobbed quietly. This one slid into her battered shitpipe without nearly as much difficult as the last one. Nova reflected that she must be pretty busted-up back there. Whatever resistance she had was broken. She lay limp in the monster’s clutches as it pumped egg after egg deep into her bowels. She twitched and shuddered as each one packed itself deeper and deeper. Every few eggs, it would pause and unleash another torrent of the cold sticky stuff, which began to leak around the edges of the tentacle.

When the zerg rolled Nova onto her side, she looked down and let out a low moan. Her stomach was grotesquely swollen to the size of a beach ball. She could see a faint green luminescence from under her skin. Her organs must have been shoved to the side or stretched to the breaking point to accommodate so many eggs. A wave of nausea rolled through her, and she groaned. She retched, gasped for breath and retched again. She felt her gorge rise and was too tired to fight it. With a “BLLLEEAAAUUGGHHH” she vomited across the cave floor. Looking down, to her horror she saw that the vomit was green and glowing. She felt something solid coming up and fought to keep her mouth shut, to no avail. She hiccuped once, twice, then disgorged a fat white egg in a frothy puddle of green slime. Completely defeated, she let her head fall into the puddle of vomit, her cheek smushed against the egg.

When the Layer finally released the human invader from its grasp, she lay twitching and moaning on the floor. She had vomited twice more and the birthing medium soaked her from her head to her navel. The Layer was disappointed that a few eggs had been ejected this way, but it had deposited the vast majority. When its ovipositor was withdrawn, the human’s birthing-hole remained gaping open. A steady stream of the green medium glugged from it, forming a second puddle that joined with the first one. The Layer felt confident that the human could not escape with this many eggs in her, but better safe than sorry; it dragged her to the wall and rubbed the cave-organism’s sense-organs. In response, two pairs of tentacles emerged from holes in the wall and wrapped up the human’s wrists and ankles, pulling them snug against the wall. Another snaked out of the ceiling and found the human’s nose, disappearing up it and then down into her belly. This would keep her fed, at least long enough for the young to hatch, and nourish the eggs as well.

Satisfied, the Layer trundled off down the newly-reopened corridor. Left behind, Nova’s rifle and pistol slowly covered with a layer of purple creep mold. When the Armada came to reclaim Aiur, perhaps they would be found. Or perhaps not.


End file.
